


Donut Hole

by Yatsuhashi_Fighter



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: "Riptide isn't dumb he's just unconventionally intelligent" AU, (mostly?) Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I haven't written fanfiction in 10 years send help, Lil bit of Getaway, Megatron being the teacher that most ND kids want and need, Mutiny Happens, Oh Boy Look At That Projection, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:37:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatsuhashi_Fighter/pseuds/Yatsuhashi_Fighter
Summary: “Riptide.” Oh Primus no, please just let him-“A word, if you have the time to spare.” It was worded as a suggestion, but there was some 'Con commander still mixed in the tone. It wasn't a suggestion. Riptide slumped, turning around and slinking up to the front of the lecture hall where Megatron, the Slagmaker himself, Unicron Reincarnated, stood.---Riptide worked hard on his essay, he really did. He's not thrilled to be asked to stay behind by an ex-warlord just to get yelled at again about how dumb he is.





	Donut Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there uh  
> You read the tags correctly, it's been a while since I've written anything but enjoy! It's not beta-ed in general so sorry if there are some mistakes I missed!  
> This was based on a discord conversation from a few months ago from when I suggested that Riptide just has a different learning style compared to what's considered "normal."

“...And it looks like we have run out of time. Dismissed.” The cacophony of clangs and chairs slid across the floor filled the lecture room as mechs rushed out the door to do who knows what, but Riptide was pretty sure it was to get away from the lecturer. No one wanted to stay in a room with Megatron alone. Not if they wanted to get chewed out at the very least.

“Riptide.” Oh Primus no, please just let him- “A word, if you have the time to spare.” It was worded as a suggestion, but there was some 'Con commander still mixed in the tone. It wasn't a suggestion. Riptide slumped, turning around and slinking up to the front of the lecture hall where Megatron, _the_ Slagmaker himself, Unicron Reincarnated, stood.

What was it going to be this time?

 

_Dumb..._

_Low intelligence..._

_Barely passed the Ambus Test..._

 

Words he tried to ignore through all of his short function swirled in his processor as he tried to keep his servos from shaking. Getting chewed out by Autobots was torture enough, but Megatron? He was going to get slagged. Probably torn in half for being too dumb for Lord Megatron's standards. No more Riptide, he might as well write up his will now-

Riptide started when he found himself at the front of the lecture room. With Megatron. Almost instinctively he straightened up like a good little soldier.

“Y-” oh Primus don't cry now- “You wanted to s-see me….sir?” Sir was okay, right? He wasn't going to get slagged for not using anything else right-

“Yes, I did. It was regarding your essay you turned in after our last lecture…”

Oh.

Oh no.

Riptide felt his tank drop to his feet. He could talk normally for sure, reading was slow, but he was the literal _worst_ with writing anything. The going was slow, and he could never get the words right, and with how much he didn't get stuff? It was a nightmare. And he's worked so hard on it too, carving into recharge time to get it done on time even as he bullscrapped the whole thing.

“... Riptide?” Riptide flinched, looking up, expecting something like the disappointment or outright condescension he had seen on the faces of the last few commanders who had the bad luck of getting stuck with him-

And was surprised to find only concern in red optics he had heard about blazing with hate and rage. He didn't look for long. He quickly averted his optics.

“I-um...sorry sir. I wasn't listening.” He muttered, and waited for the words (or even blows sometimes) to rain down on him.

They didn't come.

Riptide even looked up, to see Megatron who hadn't even moved, though there was something else he couldn't  tell mixed with concern in his optics this time. He couldn't bear the way Megatron looked at him and turned away again.

“Riptide.” There was something gentler in that rumbling tone this time, weird, “I just wanted to ask about your essay. You failed-”

Knew it. Why did he even bother with it, he should just throw himself out of the airlock now-

“...but I can see you put a lot of effort into it. Good work.”

Wait, what?

Riptide looked up again to make sure and wait, was Megatron _smiling?_ It wasn't even a evil grin, it was….just a normal smile. It belonged more on Optimus Prime than Megatron to be honest.

“B-but I failed! Aren't you going to...y’know...” He accentuated what he couldn't say with some vague hand gestures. Megatron frowned at that.

“Riptide, I won't force someone to stop coming to my lectures as long as they are willing to learn. I would much prefer someone enthusiastic than someone who is bored out of their mind, no matter how well they do.” Megatron then hummed, rubbing his chin with his fingers. He had taken a datapad out at some point. With a stab of embarrassment and shame, Riptide realized that it was his butchered mess that could barely be called an essay.

A few moments went by. Riptide almost asked if he should leave when Megatron looked up from his essay again.

“I have a suggestion, if you don't mind.” Oh boy, here we go again.

“Sir, I've had a lot of tests done already. They can't find out what's wrong. I think I'm just...” Riptide swallowed, trying to keep back the hurt, trying to be matter of fact-

“...I think I was just made wrong. Something with the processor that doesn't make me as smart as everyone else.” He whispered, into the silence of the lecture room.

“Riptide, look at me.” Megatron rumbled, and it almost sounded gentle. He did.

“You may not think so, after so many have brought you down, but you are intelligent-No, let me finish,” Riptide opened his mouth, then closed it, “You are intelligent, just not in the way most mechs consider conventional. Which is why I want to try something. Do you understand visual cues more, pictures and graphs and diagrams and such?” Riptide thought back. Now that he thought about it…

“I...I guess? I built that tide machine with a blueprint so...maybe…” Megatron hummed again, nodding.

“I saw the reports, it was very well built. Very well. Let's try with the basics, have you learned about the 13 Primes yet?”

“Well we were uh...supposed to but…” Riptide shifted his feet, his body language conveying everything.

“...I see. Well, let's start with remembering their faces and go from there. How much time do you have to spare?”

\---

Three hours later, Riptide stumbled out of the lecture hall with a surprisingly clearer head than usual. Megatron had walked him through _everything_ by drawing it all on the holoboard behind him, and answered any question by explaining it while drawing it out. It was...amazing actually. He had even drawn out a chuckle of the normally stoic captain when Megatron had instructed Riptide to identify key features of Alpha Trion.  Riptide had blurted out that he had a rather large nose. As he had started stuttering apologies, absolutely mortified, Megatron had hid his hand. A little shake of the shoulders had Riptide realizing that the ex-warlord was _laughing_.

“Good, good, anything amusing will help. If it's his nose that drew your attention than his beard, then by all means, remember it as such.” Megatron had said, with a twinkle in his optic that Riptide almost thought he imagined.He clutched the new datapad to his chest, remembering the assignment that Megatron had given him. No specifications, just to write down anything he thought about the subject with as many visuals as he wanted to put in to explain everything. He even dared to smile. Maybe things were looking up after all.

\---

The next day, Riptide watched stone-faced as Getaway paraded around gloating about his takeover while Team Rodimus looked on in horror. Riptide had specifically avoided Megatron's gaze, not wanting to see what was shown in those red optics this time.

\---

Finally it was over. Getaway cut the comm with a flourish before turning on his heel.

“Alrighty team, let's go find those Knights! Can't wait to see High Command's face when they see that I'm the captain now!” He strode out of the bridge. If he had a mouth, he was probably smirking enough to give even Starscream a run for his credits.

“Come on Riptide, I need you to do some...stuff. Something nice and easy that even you wouldn't frag it up, my man!” Getaway said cheerfully, clapping Riptide on the shoulder.

_“You are intelligent, just not in the way most mechs consider conventional.”_

The voice echoed in his mind as he followed Getaway. He tried to ignore that little voice whispering accusations of betrayal to someone who had cared about him as he steeled himself. He had work to do.

The holopad that held the new assignment Megatron had given him slipped off his berth and was lost in the mess of his room. He never found it.

**Author's Note:**

> "Bye bye, we'll never meet again  
> I had a feeling that was the case, that was what I thought.  
> I can't laugh well, I'm stuck and there's nothing I can do."  
> -Donut Hole (lazily translated by me)


End file.
